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love sonnets

Save Me

When buzzing silence is the only sort
of music my care-weary ear can stand,
and I become a hairy, pus-filled wart
that shames the muse's lovely powdered hand–
When walls remove me from the pressing crowd,
suppress me with their invisible load,
my hands become too big, my voice too loud,
I sit lost on dusty foreign roads
friendless, devoid of meaning, all drawn in
from contact needed from those I repell
because I feel boorish, painfully thin,
and on my magnified faults I must dwell–
These times I yearn for you to save me, you
can soothe this pain, and help me make it through.

by Jason Paul Fox

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poem, illusration and web page by JASON PAUL FOX
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copyright 2007 Jason Paul Fox